[Chrono Trigger Novel - Episode 62] The Sky Reclaimed
Torn metal flapped in the wind. Marle crawled without stopping to clear the hair from her face. Where her feet had been, there was sky. Lucca still had a fistful of her collar.
The Epoch drew level with the wing.
Its canopy slid back. Dalton rose from the central seat, smoothed his hair, and spread his arms.
“Bow before the empire's new flagship! The Aero-Dalton Imperial!”
The wind tore at the name. Lucca's eyebrows rose, but Marle could not smile. Two strides would carry them to the smaller craft. There was nothing underneath those strides.
“Now you see who commands the—”
Lucca jumped.
Marle followed before she could draw breath. Metal vanished beneath her. Her bow struck her back; her knees struck the small extended wing. She caught the hull with both arms. One foot scraped empty air. Lucca seized her elbow and leaned backward.
Marle dragged herself up. Pain burned beneath her clothes. Her breath came out in a rough little gasp.
She could not stand. She scarcely dared lift her chest from the metal. The craft was moving with them now, carrying every part of her except the foot that still seemed to be searching for a ledge. She drew that foot in and pressed it hard against the hull.
Dalton looked from them to the abandoned wing. His mouth slowly closed.
“Who taught you to board another man's ship?”
Lucca drew her gun.
“Get out.”
He extended a hand. A sphere of iron formed in the air. Marle saw it coming but had nowhere to move. The impact rang through her ribs. Her grip loosened. The wing tilted beneath her back.
Lucca pinned her legs with one knee. Marle forced her nails into a seam. A gunshot cracked overhead; Dalton ducked behind the canopy.
The weight on her chest was gone. Her body still seemed to be holding it.
“Marle.”
“I've got hold.”
Saying it helped her tighten her hands. She drew her knees beneath her. Beside her, Lucca kept her gun ready and opened her other palm. Fire gathered between her fingers.
Flame licked through the cockpit. Dalton hunched his shoulders. His lips moved.
White specks caught on Lucca's sleeve. Marle thought they were snow until they hardened together. Ice enclosed Lucca's forearm. She bent it with a clenched jaw. The ice cracked without breaking, forcing the muzzle skyward.
“You won't catch me twice!”
Frost spread under Marle's feet. She gripped a metal loop in the hull. First she had to stay aboard. Hitting him, silencing that laugh—those would have to wait.
She gathered cold beneath her palm. Ice rose behind Dalton and fastened his coat to the seat.
He turned his wrist.
Fire rolled across the wing. Marle covered her face. Heat skimmed her knuckles; meltwater running along the hull turned hot. Lucca lay flat as orange flame streamed above them.
When it cleared, Marle took out her bow. She braced its lower limb between her knees and nocked an arrow, crushing the feathers with unsteady fingers. Dalton was picking ice from his coat.
She aimed at his shoulder.
He twisted. The arrow grazed his upper arm, clipped the cockpit rim, and vanished below. A scrap of torn cloth floated free. Marle flattened herself without checking the two arrows she had left.
Another iron sphere appeared.
This one struck Lucca.
Her glasses slid down her nose. Her gun rolled across the wing; Marle stopped it with a foot. Lucca's cheek lay against the hull. Her eyes were open.
“Lucca.”
Her fingers moved. Marle covered them with her own hand and gathered healing light, watching Dalton all the while. The trembling beneath her palm eased. Lucca propped herself on an elbow.
“Ice for fire,” she murmured. “Fire for your ice. He watches what we use.”
Dalton examined his torn sleeve. The craft held its course without him; both his hands were free. He ripped the loose cloth away. Marle curled her fingers around the fading light.
“What do we do?”
Lucca struck the ice around her arm against the cockpit rim. Fragments broke loose. She retrieved her gun and tucked it into her belt.
“Let me do it. Keep hold of me.”
Marle slung her bow and caught Lucca's belt. She wound the sturdy leather around her hand. The strap of Lucca's bag fluttered beside it.
“I've got you.”
Lucca rose. This time her fire stayed concentrated inside the canopy, climbing toward Dalton's hands and face. He cried out and flailed.
Cold light flashed back. Marle hauled Lucca down beside the hull. Ice struck her shoulder. She held the belt until Lucca opened her hand, then poured warmth through fingers too stiff to bend.
Dalton struggled out of the cockpit. A boot caught in the seat. The Epoch rocked as he pulled it free. Marle released the belt and grabbed the seam.
Dalton stopped too. The sea passed beneath his feet.
For a moment nobody moved. Wind brushed the wings. The craft hummed. Marle could hear her breathing so clearly that she thought he must hear it too.
He raised a hand.
Lucca's fire reached him first.
His back struck the canopy. Whatever had been gathering at his fingertips dispersed. He gasped. This time he could not immediately summon a laugh. An ember fell from his sleeve.
“Here? I can't—”
He looked toward the Blackbird, its enormous wing blotting out the sky behind them. Darkness folded between his outstretched hands.
“Come out! Get rid of them!”
Nothing answered from the opening.
Dalton thrust his face toward it. Marle remembered the giant flattened against the wing. She saw no reason to tell him.
The opening widened. His sleeve snapped inward. He tried to withdraw his arm and pitched forward instead. His free hand caught the canopy, but his fingers slipped, one by one.
He shouted. His boots kicked once in the air and disappeared into darkness.
The opening closed.
Marle stared. There was no sound of a fall, no splash. Not even a mark remained where his hand had gripped the canopy.
The Epoch tilted.
Lucca climbed into the cockpit and reached back. Marle caught her hand and tumbled between the seats, striking her knees on the floor. The canopy closed. The wind fell so abruptly silent that she thought she had gone deaf.
In the central seat, Lucca studied the controls. A handle projected from the side of the panel. It had not been there before. She pulled it.
A beam shot from the bow.
The Blackbird's wing split open.
Lucca's hand froze. The great vessel began to list, shedding dark fragments from its broken wingtip. As its hull descended, Marle thought of the narrow passages inside. The locked storeroom. She leaned forward with a hand against the glass.
“Can we go back?”
Lucca moved another control. The Epoch lurched, knocking Marle's forehead against the window. Lucca eased the lever back. The sea dropped lower in their view.
The Blackbird struck the water.
Spray filled the window. The Epoch was shoved sideways. Marle gripped a handle and waited for the water to fall. A wing appeared first, then the back of the ship. Both sank from sight. Water surged outward in widening circles.
Lucca was biting her lip. Marle could say nothing. To descend, they would have to move the controls again. Beyond the glass, every patch of water looked equally dark.
They circled once. Lucca slowed the craft. Marle searched among floating splinters for people but could distinguish nothing from this height. When Lucca tried to bring them lower, the hull shuddered. She closed both hands around the controls.
Marle withdrew to a rear seat. Torn cloth lay on the seat beside her: a piece of Dalton's coat. She pushed it onto the floor. Her hand started to settle on the empty cushion, then returned to her knee.
There was room to spread her things out. She could have put her bow there, or Lucca's heavy bag. Instead she kept the bow close against her legs and watched Lucca's hands. Neither of them spoke while the craft completed its turn toward shore.
It took a while to find land.
The Epoch bounced twice in the snow beyond the village. Lucca did not let go until it had stopped completely. The canopy opened, admitting cold air. Marle climbed out. The ground was still, yet her knees kept bending beneath her.
People came out of the houses. Someone asked about Dalton. Lucca shook her head. Someone else asked whether the Blackbird would return. This time Marle shook hers. When she tried to put words together, she could only see the water closing.
A woman settled them beside a fire and brought a bowl of water. Marle accepted it with both hands. Its warmth hurt her fingers.
“There's someone on the northern cape,” the woman said, looking at Marle's wet clothes. “A man dressed in black. Won't turn around when you call. I wondered if he was with you.”
Marle looked at Lucca without putting down the bowl.
Lucca was already looking back.
The water was still trembling between Marle's hands.
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